Those Days
by broadwayKarkat69
Summary: EDIT OF THE EDIT: Hehehehehehehehehehehe ;o) guys... If you're under the age of eighteen, or you're Phelix... don't read chapter eight... eheheheh... it finally happened...
1. Chapter 1

You had no idea that, just by inviting the weird new kid to sit with you at lunch in fourth grade, you'd be changing your entire life. All the way from then and until high school, you two were best friends. When high school hit, though, your friendship took the blow.

It happened gradually; you just simply stopped making plans outside of school together. Then, you stopped sitting with him at lunch. During the entirety of your freshman year, you didn't receive a single class with him. You just barely saw each other.

Both of you moved on, and got new friends. Naturally, people flocked to his enticing 'cool kid' aura, craving his attention and approval. You, of course, being much more geeky and shy than him, had far less luck in the friend department. Honestly, you spent more of your time being shoved in lockers, and beaten up after school than you did hanging out with your ragtag group of friends.

He never saw the bruises and cuts left by the boys and girls who terrorized you. You always made sure to avoid him on the days after that happened. When those days became every day, though, you simply stopped seeing him.

The day you fought back was the last day you saw him.

Standing tall over bruised and bloodied bodies, you panted heavily. You cast an angry, sweeping glance over the scene, and did not like what you saw. Cops. Everywhere, there were cops; pointing guns at you, telling you to drop the knife. Just when you were about to finally give up, you saw him. Over the shoulder of a cop.

He was holding his girlfriends hand, a look of shock and terror replacing his usually stolid expression. His shades hung halfway down his face, and you could almost make out his eyes. What colour was that…? What you could see instead, were his tears rolling down his face. Was he actually crying? You look down. Yes, there it was. A small bullet hole, the size of a marble, punctured your stomach. Your shirt was dyed a bright red, and you could feel something slipping. You dropped the knife as another bullet tears through your chest, and you can almost hear him screaming. There was so much red…

You drop to your knees slowly, trying to keep your eyes open and watching him as he shoved his way up to you. When you began falling forward, he caught you, and yanked his shades off, looking into your eyes. His own were wide, terrified, and… red…?

You mouthed the word, trying to make a sound that wasn't gurgling come out, and he shook his head. Shushing you, he leaned down and whispered in your ear, three sad, pained words, for the first time.

You didn't die. And, once they realized it was in self-defense, you didn't go to jail either. But you were still expelled. You and your dad decided to just move to the next town over, and finish school there.

Senior year was quiet for you. No friends or significant bullies to be spoken of. After you graduated, you moved back to your home state, Washington, for college. You studied to be a biology teacher, with a minor in computer sciences. It took a while, and god was it hard, but finally—after five years of school – you graduated. The youngest in your class, as usual. You were only twenty two. Once you finished, you moved back to Texas and got a job at your old high school. You taught sophomores and up. During the summer of your second year there, you met a girl. Her name was Vriska Serket, which was pretty unusual, but you decided you liked the uniqueness of it. She was a beautiful, extraordinary lady. Even though she had the shortest temper, she managed it well enough. After a year of dating her, and late night hook-ups, you asked her to move in with you, to which she immediately said 'Yes.' The two of you had an amazing life, until…

She was on a plane to visit her sister Aranea, who had just been in a horrible car accident and was in a deep coma, in New York. Obviously, it's a long flight from Texas to New York, so you thought nothing of it when she didn't call in the first twenty-four hours. You figured she was exhausted from her flight and had gotten a room to sleep in. Of course, after thirty-six hours you began to grow worried.

48 hours passed before you got the call. But it was not Vriska.

The police officer was very gentle when he told you about the plane crash. He said she was still alive when they found her. She had handed them her phone with your number pulled up, and begged them to call you. He said she died in the ambulance.


	2. A Ghost From the Past

48 hours, and your world, built upon 3 difficult years of trust and love, was torn away. Ripped out from beneath you, and tossed into the shredder. The school year ended three days later. Three days, you didn't go in.

The majority of your summer was spent lying in bed, staring at the wall, and at the ring you were planning on presenting her with. It was going to be on your anniversary. On June 30th. Now she was gone, and you were alone again.

Another year passed, and you were out of your rut. Of course, you were never going to be the same. Every thought of her brought tears to your eyes, even the mention of her name brought you to your knees. You ended up having to get rid of most of her stuff. You gave it back to her family, though, because you couldn't bear to just send it away. It was around this awful time that you found an old friend again on a website called Facebook. Of course you sent him a friend request, and of course you messaged him as soon as he accepted.

"Hey, Dave, long time to talk!"

He didn't message back. You knew that would happen. It said he was on... was he ignoring you? The thought followed you onto the computer the next day, where you found he had messaged you while you were sleeping.

"Sup, Egderp?"

It was so simple, so teasing. It reminded you of the older days, when you didn't have a care in the world. When everything seemed simple and easy, and you didn't have to worry if and when your crippling depression was going to get the better of you. But then again, maybe you were reading too much into this. You replied quickly.

"Oh, god, a whole lot. Do you have Skype? Mine's EctoBiologist."

"Simple. I'll find you. Mine's TurntechGodhead."

You were 29 years old, and god damn, talking to him made you sound (and feel) fifteen again.

So, of course he said yes to the call, and for the next three hours, you caught up on each other's lives. You told him all about Vriska, and when he asked where she was, you began crying explaining it to him. He sympathetically hushed you, and told you of his girlfriend. She was the same one from high school, Jane Crocker. They were almost going to be married, and she was pregnant with their child.

"This was all a few years ago," he explained. "Back right when she turned twenty-five, she went to a doctor about her constant headaches. She was, ah, diagnosed with stage three brain cancer. Before she died, she had to lose the baby, though. She was devastated. So was I, actually." He shook his head, looking away and adjusting his shades.

You started crying again, of course. Of course. He calmed you down again, and suggested the two of you meet for coffee some time and chat some more, to which you automatically said hell yes.

He laughed softly, and the two of you set up a date. As soon as he hung up, you freaked out. You bounced over to your calendar, and marked the day with a big smiley face, then went to bed.

The week dragged on and on, slower than molasses in a race against a snail. Finally, it was Sunday. In anticipation for the meeting, you dressed in a blue plaid button up over a white shirt, and blue jeans. Just like how you used to dress in high school. By the time you had gelled your hair, and put your clothes on, you still had an extra hour. You spent it freaking out and planning conversations. God damn, you felt like a teenager.

Finally, you headed over to the coffee shop, which was a convenient mile and a half away. For an hour, you patiently waited. And for an hour, he didn't show. Finally, feeling dejected and rejected, you headed home. The entire way, you dragged your feet. Drove slow. Stopped at yellow lights, slowed down at green ones. When you got to your apartment, you slowly trudged up the stairs. Slowly unlocked your door, slowly locked it again, and threw yourself onto the bed. After a few minutes, you rolled over and yanked your laptop up, and started spamming him with messages. It took another hour, but he finally responded.

"God damn, Egbert, you haven't changed a bit." You could almost feel his smirk.

You quickly called him on Skype, and retorted, "I could say the same thing!" and glared while he chuckled. "Why didn't you show up today, Dave?"

He grinned slightly. "I never told you, did I? Oh, man. Better hold on tight to those panties of yours, Egbert, cuz they're about to drop." He pulled something out of his wallet, and flashed it at the camera. It was… a cop badge…?

"You're a… a cop?" You gasped a little, and he nodded. You couldn't help your amazement. David Strider, one of the biggest trouble makers (besides yourself, of course :B) was now a cop! Dave Strider, your best fri—wait, wait, wait. Best friend? You haven't spoken to the guy in ten years! He is NOT your best friend anymore. Of course, right now you didn't have any other friends to speak of… and you have known him practically your whole life…

You decide that it is okay to call David Strider your best friend. For now.


	3. A sudden confession

You talked to your 'best friend' until around midnight, or midnight-thirty that night, before you both realized you had to get up for work in the morning. Quickly, you said goodnight, and hung up.

Three months passed, and you still couldn't fit it a good time to meet him. You were both busy with your jobs, the crime rate having gone up both on the streets and in the class. Ever since school had started, you spent most evenings in class, hosting detention. And don't even think about the Saturday school. But still, every weekend, you and he stayed up well into the night and early dawn laughing it up, like the old friends you were. Sometimes, you'd have some assignments to grade, and that would be the joke of the whole weekend.

"I've got this new student… great kid, wonderful personality, I'm sure—he can't control his mouth to save a life." You both bust up laughing, and it's a moment before you can continue. "God damn, kids got a voice though. He's extremely loud, calls me out on all my bullshit. Kids a damn genius, I swear to god, he shouldn't even be in my class. He's way too smart. Skipped two grades, I checked his file. Honestly, he's only thirteen. Every other kid in my class is fifteen and up, not even any freshmen in there. Kid should be an eighth grader, seriously. Anyways, he's a damn special kid. No one wants to be around him, though, all except the one stoner guy. He's got these big angry bright red eyes. And they aren't contacts, I checked. He has albinism, dyes his hair black and everything. Honestly, he's pretty intimidating-looking with his red eyes and black hair, set against his pale skin." You finish talking for a bit, taking a drink straight from the bottle of whiskey.

Dave, who had been drinking hard apple cider the whole night and wasn't anywhere near as drunk as you were, arched an eyebrow curiously.

"Does he, now?" You nod, setting the bottle on the table and snickering.

"It's god damn cool. I mean, sure, it'd suck being super sensitive to light and heat and all that, but… _**RED EYES.**_" You adjust your crooked glasses as Dave clears his throat.

"It's… not as cool as you'd think," He murmured, sighing and running a hand through his silver locks.

"And how would you know?" You tilt your head slightly, raising your eyebrows in a show of confusion.

He sighed back. "Do you really not remember any of the events that transpired whilst you were killing those kids?"

"I wasn't killing them…" you mumble, ashamed.

"Whatever. Do you?"

"Um…" you thought for a moment, dumbly tapping at your chin. "All I remember is, ah… blood… blood red… and, what you said to me, before I blacked out." You blush softly, looking down.  
>Dave sighed again, and removed his shades slowly, looking directly into the camera. "John fucking Egbert, I told you before and I'll tell you now. I love you. I love you, I love you. I. Fucking. Love. You. Look at me, John. Look into my eyes. I love you." He stared steadily at your face, his freckles slowly being buried in a pale blush.<p>

For a few moments after that, you drunkenly stumble around your words, trying to form the correct ones. It didn't work. By the time a few minutes had passed, you were so confused and mumbly; he simply said a quick goodnight and hung up on you, leaving you staring at a glowing screen for a few minutes, still talking to it. Finally, you gave up, and shut it down, placing it beside your bed and going to sleep.


	4. I aint got no clu wat im doin here m80s

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of Facebook dinging noisily. A throbbing headache pounded behind your eyes, each small noise sending another hammer through your skull. Leaning over with a long groan, you hefted the laptop up and opened the lid. The bright light emanating from it blinded you temporarily, and you quickly slammed your hand down on the button to lower these lights. Eventually, you managed to open Facebook, where you found a whopping 14 new messages from Dave, in only the past five minutes.

"John."

"John."

"John."

"JOHN."

"Jooooohn,"

"John,"

"Wake up,"

"John,"

"Wake the fuck up John,"

"Yo, rise n shine sleeping beauty,"

"JOHN!"

"John you lazy fucking assbutt,"

"Get over here,"

"Oh my god,"

Finally you managed to type a response.

"What?"

"Oh my FUCKING **_GOD_**, John FINALLY!"

"You want me to come over?!"

"Yeah. Yeah I do."

"When? I just woke up, man. And I have a raging hangover."

"Just… _now. _See you in an hour."

"What? Okay, I guess! Just give me a bit more than an hour!"

There was no response, though it was shown that he had seen it. Sighing, you shoved the laptop away, and closed the lid. You rolled out of the bed, trying to take slow, quiet steps, as you headed to the kitchen for a tall glass of water. After hydrating yourself (seven and a half glasses of water later), you began to slowly get dressed. Of course you felt way better now than you did a few minutes ago, but you still had a dull throbbing behind your left eye. You tried to shake it away with a quick flip of your head, but really, that only made it worse. A few angry sighs later, and you were clutching your temples tightly as you jerked on a pair of jeans. Shirtless, and in pain, you decided now was a good time to make a good cup of coffee. And make that coffee, you did. While it was brewing, you tugged on a dark blue cashmere sweater, and combed your hair back. You found your glasses sitting beside your desk, about to crash to the floor.

Finally, a whole pot of coffee and a few chores later, you were seated in your car, ready to go. You quickly plugged his address into your GPS, delighted to find he only lived about fifteen minutes away. A stack of shitty movies at your side (Con-Air included), and an excited tremble in your fingertips, you took off.

He was sitting on the front porch when you arrived, smoking a cigarette. He looked up, and smiled slightly, and it seemed that a look of relief had flashed over his face (or terror, when he saw your movies. Either or.). While he snuffed his smoke out, you slowly untangled yourself from the seatbelt, and stepped out of the car.

Nearly immediately, you were wrapped in a warm, shaky hug that smelled of apples, cinnamon, and spice. He held you there tightly, and you wrapped your arms back around his waist, drinking in his delicious scent. Surely, the scene must have looked rather peculiar to anyone viewing from afar, or one who had no idea as to what was going on. You hugged him wordlessly, making up for the missing ten years of comfort and hurt. Finally, and somewhat reluctantly, you both pulled away. He bit his lip gently, and then smirked casually down at you.

"Damn, Egderp, you're even shorter than I remember. Get your adorable ass in here, ya lil fucker," He said, gesturing to the house—no, house isn't quite the right word… gesturing to the MANSION behind him. Needless to say, your jaw quite literally fell open. Slowly, you shuffled after him into the… "House."

Looking around in amazement, you heard yourself gasp loudly. All along the walls was ridiculously expensive equipment, shining and flickering in the light enticingly. He smirked at your excitement, ruffling your shaggy and in-need-of-a-haircut hair.

"When bro moved to his boyfriends island, he left me all a his money. Do you have any idea how much fuckin cash that all is? A god damn fuckton, that's how much. Most of its in saving, but I did use a small fraction of it to fund this castle of irony." He explained, opening a door into a dark room for you.

"F-fraction…?" You gulped, and entered the room. It turned out to be a personal movie theatre. You couldn't help but give a low groan, causing another snicker from Dave to bubble up.

"You like? Or was that little moan out of disgust?" He shut the door, still holding a smirk. If possible, it had become even more heinous than prior smirks. "Either way, it was fuckin hot. Wonder what I'd need to do to make you moan like that again?" He mused, peering at you over the top of his shades. You get the feeling he's only half joking.

"Um… Probably just put Ghost Busters on or something…" you jest back, managing to straighten up a little. To your surprise, he simply leaned over, and flipped a large switch behind you. A loud whirring sound rang around the room for a moment, grinding horribly against your ear drums, then…

"No way, woah!" You covered your mouth, and widened your eyes in shock. How was it already in the projector?!

**YOOOO! I think I may have to pause this indefinitely… :/ sorry guysysysysys. But hey—I ain't no Andrew Hussie, so you don't gotta wait an entire god-damned year for dis shit to be back up. I actually like writin and gettin feedback, despite popular belief (*cough*****empty comments section*****cough*), so I'd appreciate a few things,**** you know, ****_DOWN THERE_*****wiggles eyebrows***** so ya, gimme somma dat feedback mateys 3 **


	5. I'LL TRY AN POST A NEW CHAP TOMORROW

"You're so damn predictable, Egderp…" He snickered, shook his head, and draped an arm around your shoulder, leading you to a seat. "You want popcorn? No? How about a soda? Really? Aight, then, how about a nice juicy piece of this hot Strider ass?" You stared at him for a moment, stuttering and blushing. He simply smirked and re-ruffled your hair, turning his attention towards the movie.

You spent the majority of the movie stealing short glances at the man seated beside you, making no moves to remove his arm from your shoulders. You felt a sensation… a tingle in your chest that you had not felt in a while, a feeling that you had thought was long since extinct. Ever since Vriska, you were certain you had lost this feeling. You had no idea you'd be capable of feeling it again… and towards your best friend, of all people! But no, you knew you had to be mistaken. This fuzzy feeling was simply untrue. There was no possible way that you, Johnathan Egbert, could have fallen in love with the stoic cool kid Dave Strider.

Nearing the end of the movie, your exhaustion had finally caught up to you. Running off of around four and a half hours of sleep, you felt that you could just nod off right here, leaning against Dave. Not that either of you would mind, of course. But you figured that since it was Saturday, this was okay. Maybe he'd let you stay the night or something. Before you could open your mouth to ask, though, he was talking.

"Yo, now that your piece of shit movie is over, shall we retire to my bedchambers and unlock that tight little chastity belt of yours?" He smirked teasingly down at your shocked and blushing face. God, you felt fifteen again.

"D-Dave, I am NOT a virgin!" You protested weakly.

"So, I'm gonna go ahead and take that as a yes? Good. Let's go." Before you could make any more limp objections, he had _picked you up _and was _carrying you out of the theatre_.

Squeaking, and kicking your legs like a child throwing a tantrum, you tried to flop out of his arms. "Dave! Put me down, omigod, I'm like thirty why are you doing this to me!" You tried and failed to roll out of his arms, and god damn was he strong…

"Not a chance, little dude. And anyways, no matter how old you are, if you're this tiny, you're simply begging to be picked up and carried around. I don't care if you're 130 years old, I'm still gonna haul you outta your wheel chair and into mine, an we gonna wheel around everywhere. But shit man, I ain't doin all that work all damn day. My hands are gonna be…" He winked at you, "preoccupied. When I'm 130, I'll just get one a them damn electric chairs." He finished, holding his head up proud.

"131…" You said softly, looking up at him.

"Huh?" He looked back down, shifting you in his arms as he swung the door to his room open.

"When I'm 130, you'll be 131. Or 132, depending on how long I've been 130. Speaking of which, my 30th birthday is next Friday. The schools giving me two days paid vacation…" You looked up at him, hope sparking in your bright blue eyes.

"Hmm… Yeah, I can get the thirteenth off. Maybe the fourteenth." He smiled down at you, winking.

"Sweet! We could do like a movie marathon or something! That'd be great! I'll bring Con-Air!" You grinned excitedly, revealing your bucked teeth. He groaned audibly, shaking his head.

"Not that shit… Naw, I was thinking I'd take you out to a movie, then maybe we can get dinner or something, and come back here for a night of… unbridled _passion._" He smirked at you again, "Or, bridled, if you're into that shit. Anything for this little derp."

"I… uh… oh, my… um… D-Dave, I am not a homosexual…" You lowered your voice, noticing its slight tremble and wishing you could control that. "A-and anyways… Since I know you're rich now, you better not try taking me out some place cheap. I'm gonna choose the restaurant, if that's what we're doing." He set you on the bed, and leaned back, laughing.

"Well, damn Egbert, coulda fooled me. Not a homosexual… funniest shit I've heard all day. And anyways, you're all up an ruinin my plans… I mean, hell, I was just gonna take you out to Taco Bell and roofie your soda. But god damn, this way maybe I won't need to drug you for a good fuck. Now, did you bring any clothes, or were you planning on sleeping in the nude? I'd prefer it that way, to be honest." He grinned wider, tossing his shades on the nightstand, and tugging his shirt off. Flustered, you stumbled around your words in a confused display of frustration.

"Damn it Dave, I am _not _a homosexual!" You frowned at him, blushing.

"Bullshit."

"Wha-?!"

"Johnathan fucking Egbert, I have known you for twenty god damn long ass years. You can not look me in the eyes and say you aren't hella gay." You pouted at him, making no move to object. You knew he was probably right. You just weren't ready to admit it yet. This feeling corrupting your chest, your mind… Love. You loved Dave Strider. You loved him with your heart, your soul, and your entire being. And there was no way in all hell you would ever admit it to him. Dave Strider, resident cool kid, the one who had always been too good for you. And now you could have him. No fucking way.

"Omigod…" You mumbled, covering your face and leaning against the bed. He snickered, and tossed his shirt over your face. Obviously, he had no idea about the thoughts racing through your head. And obviously you had no intention of telling him any time soon. For now, you decided it was completely okay to love him in silence. Just for now, though.


	6. Just A Kiss

**Hey guys! So, my school has banned :/ looks like I'll be posting way less now. Anyways! Here's chapter six!**

"So, I take it you forgot your clothes, then?" Dave queried, digging through his drawers.

"Firstly, Dave, I was totally unaware that I was staying the night. Secondly, it's like two in the afternoon. Why are we getting into pajamas?" You leaned back, tugging the shirt off of your face and carelessly tossing it down to the floor.

"Well, firstly, it's the first time in around fourteen—why do we keep saying ten—years that you've been over at my place, so I mean, COME ON. Secondly, John," He leaned in closer to your face, pressing his bare chest (which, you hated to admit, was quite muscular and attractive) against your own clothed one. "You're gonna be pretty damn tired when I'm done with you…" His breath smelled like apples and cinnamon, which almost made you want to kiss him. Just to see what he tasted like.

You didn't.

Your eyes widened, and your pupils dilated as he moved closer. He was only centimeters away from you now. Blood and heat rushed to your face, dying it a bright shade of crimson. Biting your lower lip, your gaze flashed between his eyes, and his lips. From this close, his cinnamon breath was almost intoxicating, spicy and tempting, like a forbidden fruit. You hoped your own minty breath had the same effect.

Obviously, as he straightened up snickering, it hadn't. He ran a hand through his hair again, sending you another cinnamon apple spicy scent. Unconsciously, you let out a low groan. He glanced down at you quickly, a curious eyebrow quirked. Face heating again, you covered your mouth and shook your head, in a show that said 'it wasn't me.'

Uh oh. Dilated pupils? Check. Strange, raspy breathing? Check. Flushing of the face, and/or tightening in the crotch area of your jeans? Fucking double check that shit.

Fuck.

You looked away, strategically placing your hands in your lap. He snickered again, tossing another shirt at you.

"Damn, son, are you really that easy to turn on? This is gonna be fun. Put that on, Egbert." He tugged a random shirt on, giving you a quick look.

Why did he keep throwing clothes at you? You tugged the shirt on quickly, and inspected the front of it. It was a plain white, with a green slime monster on the front. Just like a few of the shirts you'd had in high school. You'd had like, fifty of them, though you had no idea where you had gotten them.

"Why do you have these…?" You looked up, memories of older days flashing in your eyes. His gaze flicked momentarily to you, then back to the drawer.

"I got em custom made for you." He said, smiling down at the clothes. He reached in, and pulled out a pair of tight looking red briefs that said **_RED HOT_** across the ass. "How're these?" He smirked, holding them up to show you.

"Omigod…" You mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest. Even as that was happening, he was beginning to change—right in front of you! Panicking, you covered your eyes quickly.

After a moment, you could feel something kind of cold, kind of soft on your face. Was that his hand…? You opened your eyes slowly and peeked out at a now fully-clothed Dave. He was smiling slightly, his shades returned to their usual position on his face.

"You up for another movie?" He asked, letting your face go and adjusting his red flannel pajamas. You nodded briefly, standing up again. He automatically draped an arm over your shoulder, which you immediately brushed off, blushing heavily. He pokes your side teasingly, making a mock hurt face, before he leaned over, cupping your chin in his hand. Before you had even a split second to protest, his lips were on yours, and you were… kissing him back. Not a second of hesitation, and you were moving your lips with his, even letting him part yours and slide his tongue into your mouth. For a moment, nothing else mattered besides your clicking teeth, your clashing lips, your wrestling tongues. And then your phone rang.

**All right, guys, thanks for reading! Sorry this ones so short! Augh :P Anyways, feedback is appreciated! Love y'all!**


	7. A Blast From the Bitch

Irritated at the interruption, you reluctantly removed your face from his. He held you for a moment longer, just hugging, until he realized your phone was still ringing. You frowned, and jerked it out of your pocket, snapping it open and giving a quick, short "hullo?"

The voice you heard in the receiver made your whole world crash around you. Out of every person who could have called you, out of every living human on this earth… it had to be her.

"Heeeeeeeey, John!" Vriska drawled out. She was obviously drunk, and very much alive. Just those few words spouted out, and… And your hand flew to your mouth; your eyes stretched wide, and your knees buckled. Unfair, you think, that she can sound so happy-go-lucky… and she's alive…

"You… you… what _happened_ to you?!" You whispered, your throat having closed so tight that you could not make any other sound louder than that. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Could this actually be Vriska? But it was impossible, she was dead. You went to her funeral. Sure, it was closed-casket, but surely her entire family couldn't have been in on it…

"I died, or didn't you get the memo? Ha-ha, you're so damn gullible, Johnny~!" She slurred, interrupting herself with obnoxious laughter.

"You left me. You tricked me. You… you… you…" You couldn't think of anything to say, so you simply looked up to Dave, with wide blue tear-filled eyes. Your whole world was colliding with the sun again, and this time… This time you didn't know how to cope. "Years, Vriska. YEARS. You left me for fucking years. How could you do that?! And how are you…" You gulped, "alive?" She laughed at you, which naturally caught you off-guard. Dave was looking at you now, his eyes wide behind his shades with alarm.

"Hehe, John, you stupid little fuck. Nunna that was reaaaaaaaal. DUH." She sounded gleeful, so proud that she had successfully torn you apart. "Doncha get it? I just fuckin wanted your money. Stupifd Egbret."

Your voice took on a monotone glaze. "Oh, how absolutely droll. You fucking… you… Dave…?!" He snatched the phone out of your hand, shaking visibly with rage.

"Yo, so you're the dead bitch my babe was whining about the other night? Yeah, fuck you too. I'm his boyfriend, what's it to ya?" The way he said it, so casual, just absolutely stabbed you. Your entire face went bright red as the word raced through your head. Boyfriend. Dave was your boyfriend. When had that happened? You supposed it was after the kiss. He nodded along to something Vriska was saying, and then opened his mouth again.

"You're a fucking whore, you know that? This kid was gonna give you his whole life. You didn't even care. No, don't you dare start spouting that bullshit bout 'oh, I loved him in the beginning.' No. Fuck that. If you loved him at all, you wouldn't have tries to clean his bank account out and take all his cash for yourself. You wouldn't have gotten your stupid lispy friend to call, posing as some shitty cop. I don't care if he's a real cop, that doesn't excuse your shit. Yeah, yeah, go fuck yourself. Don't you ever call this number again, you god damn dollar whore." He slammed the phone closed, and helped you up, hugging you tightly.

"I shouldn't have answered…" You mumbled against his chest, your voice shaking. She was alive… she had tricked you…

"Not your fault, John. She's just a bad lady. Ain't worth none of your time." He whispered back, pressing his lips to the top of your head softly. It was such a simple act, but it was so filled with love and tenderness at the same time. You blushed softly, and buried your face further into his warm, soft pajama shirt.

"I can't believe she's alive, Dave…" You squeaked, tears spilling over the edge of your eyes. Damn it, John, don't cry!

"Hey. Hey. Look at me. She's not worth it, John. She's not worth your tears. Stop that now, okay?" You nodded shortly, pulling back from his hand. He swiped your tears away carefully, and kissed your cheeks repeatedly until you were giggling, and shoving him back.

"Okay, Dave, okay. I'm okay." You smiled shyly at him, and leaned up on tip toes, kissing him on the cheek. He smiled softly at you, and tilted your chin up, kissing your lips. You smiled, and kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. He grabbed your hips, and pulled you closer. A moment later, you had jumped up into his arms, and wrapped your legs around his waist, biting his shoulder teasingly.

"Okay, John, how about that movie?" He chuckled, resting his chin against your shoulder.

"I love you." You said quickly, and then covered your mouth. That wasn't what you meant to say! "I-I mean… I love you, Dave." You squeaked again, and then, through gritted teeth and in-between the cracks of your fingers, you whispered, "Yes, let's just go watch that movie."

He laughed softly, and kissed your cheek again. "I love you too, John. Always have, always will. Let's just go watch that movie." He teased you softly, carrying you to a small room that had only a couch, a TV, and a DVD player in it. He set you down on the couch, and turned the TV on.

"I wanna watch… National Treasure. You got that?" You asked, reluctantly untangling yourself from his arms. He rolled his eyes, and nodded, making an 'of course' face. He leaned forward, and pulled out a disk from the case, and popped it into the DVD player.

"C'mere, Egbert. If we're watching your shit, I'm gonna need a favor." He gestured to his lap, and you gasped softly, blushing all the way to the tips of your ears. He laughed at your reaction, and shook his head. "Not what I meant, but I won't say no, that's for sure." He smirked sideways at you, and patted his lap again. You understood now, and crawled over to him, sitting on his lap carefully. He wrapped his arms around your waist, and kissed the side of your head.

"I love you, Dave." You whispered again, turning your head to face him. He was blushing now, his pale white skin turning a bright pink. He nodded at you, and kissed your cheek briefly.

"I love you more," was his simple reply. It made sense, of course. He had loved you for longer. You nodded at him, and relaxed against his chest. He was so warm and comfy, you felt like you could just stay there forever. And you were sure you would have, if not for the fact that you both had work, and that you were going to have to go home tomorrow. Upon realizing that, you groaned loudly.

"Hm? What's wrong, babe?" He arched an eyebrow at you, his nickname having already stuck.

"I just realized that I have to go home tomorrow." You pouted, crossing your arms. To your surprise, he simply chuckled at you.

"Yeah, but you're coming back next weekend." He pointed out, kissing your neck softly. A short shock ran through you, and you shivered. To distract yourself, you picked up the remote and pressed play on the movie.

"Yeah… I suppose you're right." You smiled softly, turning to face him. "And next weekend is my birthday! That's gonna be fun, man!" You giggled, and snuggled back down on his chest.  
>Right there, warm against your… your boyfriends chest, you felt at ease. You felt comforted, you felt at home. You never wanted that amazing feeling to leave you. But what you were thinking… no, you couldn't ask to move in with him! You just had your first kiss with him! You hadn't even… you know… done the do yet. You giggled outwardly at your dirty thought, and covered your mouth. Damn, you needed fuckin Jesus.<p>

**Hey guys! I did it! Yo, I was wondrin... does anyone want a chap on Karkat? I wanted to maybe do a spin-off series of that one, b/c i love me some KK. The pairings in it would be GamKar pale, and SolKat red. Tell me in the reviews.**


	8. When One Feels Infinite

"What's so funny?" Dave queried, placing a small, moist kiss on your neck. You shuddered slightly, and reached up to wipe the residual spit off.

"Nothing. Just a thought I had. And no, Dave, I am so _not_ gonna tell you." You smiled a little, flicking a nervous tongue over your protruding teeth. Have you ever mentioned how much you hate your teeth? Because you do. You hate them a lot. They're really annoying.

"I have ways of forcing the information I was out of people," Dave murmured against your neck, breathing down it and absently rubbing a hand down your thigh. You made a strange noise, somewhere between a squeak and a grunt, and shifted.

"I'm sure…" You mumbled, adjusting your glasses slightly. He kissed your neck teasingly, sucking on it and leaving a faint mark. You stifled a gasp, and your face flushed a bright red. What was he _doing?_ 'Whatever it is, I don't want him to stop…' a small voice in your head whispered. Shamed and embarrassed, even though he couldn't hear it, you chided yourself. You really needed some fucking help.

God, his hand was getting really close… NO! Don't think about that! And for fucks sake, don't get a boner right NOW! Now would be a horrible, awful, inappropriate time to get a boner. In fact, you really should stop thinking about the way his ragged breath feels down the back of your neck, how his hand is so smoothly and slowly working its way up your thigh, how it would feel if he ever reached his obvious destination… how his cool mouth is gently caressing that spot where your neck meets your shoulder… how your pants are tightening beyond belief because of your stupid brain forcing you to think shit that's gonna get you in trouble. Oh, fuck, not again.

He smiled against your neck, his hand running across your obvious bulge. Oh, fuck… do that again… you made a short, low, grunt, and pressed your back against his chest. How on earth was this happening…? You pinched yourself discreetly, to make sure you weren't imagining this.

You weren't. He squeezed gently on the tent in your pants, and ran his thumb over the top of it. You gritted your teeth together, and dug your fingers into his legs. Painfully slowly, he continued teasing you for a few minutes more. When it seemed like he'd never stop, he finally did. Carefully, he unzipped your jeans, and let your painfully hard dick free. He smirked softly, and bit down on your shoulder again, sucking on it until you squeaked through your teeth, and rocked your hips back. He ran his fingers down the side of your dick, barely touching it. The cool fingertips drove you crazy, and when he finally—finally—squeezed it gently, your hand flew up to your mouth. You had to find some way to block the loud, desperate moans from escaping your lips. Almost as soon as your hand touched your mouth, he had grabbed it and pulled it away.

"I want to hear… every single little noise that cute little mouth of yours makes…" He whispered in a shaky, soft voice. He was holding something back, you could tell, but you couldn't dwell on it. Because a moment later, he was back to rubbing you slowly and teasingly. You tried to hold it back still, but it was too much. The way his expert fingers made small patterns, and how he squeezed you at just the right moment was just too perfect. After a short rebellious moment, a loud moan escaped, seeming to echo across the small, empty room. "There you go…" He encouraged, a smile playing on the corners of his lips. He continued jerking you off, as if it was second nature to him; and it felt so fucking good. Before too long, you knew it was happening. You could feel the all-too-familiar tightening in your gut, the way everything felt amplified now. You were close, and he could tell. His movements sped up just slightly, encouraging you along to your climax. Your soft, controlled moans rose in frequency and volume, and you squirmed under his grip. A blissful, exhausting numbness washed over you; you tightened your grip on his legs, squeezing your eyes shut.

"F-fuck… Dave…" You panted out, and let yourself go. You came all over his hands, thick ropes of white splattering onto his hands. He chuckled softly, waiting for you to be done before raising his hands slowly to his mouth, and licking it all off. Your breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, and you collapsed back against him. "Dave…" You whispered, leaning back and kissing his cheek. His lips pressed on yours softly, and he kissed your nose.

"I love you, John…" He murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist. You smiled at him, and nuzzled the side of his face.

"I love you too." And right there, right in that moment, you felt infinite. Everything seemed so perfect. You were sitting in the one place you never thought you'd be, in the lap of someone whom you loved with your heart, your soul, your entire being. Your whole body pulsed with tender affection for him; you could almost feel his mind touching yours. This was heaven for you, curled up in the arms of someone who felt the same for you, someone who loved you probably one hundred times more than you loved them. At this moment, you were absolutely, infinitely, one hundred percent… perfect. And you knew he felt the same.


End file.
